


Lumix 49

by itsrainingcinnamon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Being An Asshole, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, OC is having none of it, Past Child Abuse, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Politics, Rating May Change, Seduce me with your kindness and knowledge of paint, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Enemies to Friends to maybe Lovers idk don't even ask, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, mentions of edgelord baby kylo ren, this whole fic is one big excuse for me to stare at pictures of Theed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsrainingcinnamon/pseuds/itsrainingcinnamon
Summary: Hux couldn't imagine that someone was comparing something so….beautiful to his person."Thank…you?" he responded, not quite knowing what else to say.





	1. First Impressions

First Impressions  
\------------------------------------

He didn't particularly like the girl.  
In fact he found her rather…irritating.

When she had dragged him into the small corner shop, he had expected this to be a matter swiftly delt with.  
Bustling into the shop through the main door, whose forest green varnish was peeling off after years of sustaining the planet's climate, the girl was talking about colours which he had never heard the name of.  
He was quite confused at this point, not just by the person in front of him, but also by his own inability to end the conversation they'd been having (if his occasional nods and grunts in answer to her brabbeling could be called a conversation).  
He could already feel a headache coming on.

"But honestly have you ever looked at yourself? It would be a shame to not have those cheekbones painted!" 

She really was making him rather uncomfortable. 

"Those dull holograms…I don't understand why people use them as much as they do"  
She had run off to the back of the shop, seemingly searching for something she wanted to show him, but still continued to talk.

Golden streaks of sunlight were shining through the window, illuminating the room.  
There were countless paintings in every size and shape hung on the walls, or leaning against them. One could barely make out the pattern of the blue wallpaper, only upon closer inspectation, the fine lines and golden leaves became visible. 

"They're practical" he noted matter of factly, feeling like the eyes on the walls were staring back at him. 

"Ah yes practical!" She came back into the room holding a large jar that was covered with an old rag.  
"Everyone's favourite word when it comes to excusing being lazy and uncreative", she sounded very sure of herself. Hux withstood the urge to roll his eyes at her and rather fixated on the heavy jar she had hauled up onto the small counter in the middle of the room. 

"I hope this will work, normally it looks best in sunlight…" she murmered, while buzzing around him.  
She reached for something behind the counter and pulled out a small shovel, whose end she held only with two fingers. Then she untied the strings holding the rag on top of the jar.

Hux was speechless.  
The jar was filled to the brim with the most vibrant orange pigment he had ever seen.  
Apparently she was pleased by his silence and collected some of the powder on the small shovel. 

"If you liked it in that old jar…then take a look at this" she said as she stepped into the sunlight. She beckoned him to come closer. And he followed. 

The orange pigment was glowing in the sunlight seemingly soaking it up, changing it's colour and shade from every angle. It suddenly seemed, not like one, but a hundred colours. A mixture of reds and yellows and oranges. It was captivating. 

"I saw you walking by and I…I just immediately thought of this…" 

Hux frowned at her. What? 

She seemed amused by his puzzled expression and couldn't contain the small grin that was forming on her lips.  
"Your hair", she clarified, "it reminded me of this". 

Hux couldn't imagine that someone was comparing something so….beautiful to his person.  
"Thank…you?" he responded, not quite knowing what else to say. 

"You're very welcome" came the quiet answer  
Hux looked away from the pigment and at the woman in front of him. She was smiling softly, her peculiar hair glowing from the golden light coming in from the windows.  
He also noted how close she was. How she smelled of paint and linen and something sweet that he didn't know the name of. 

"I would love to paint you using this", she said unaware of his staring as she stepped away from him and put the pigment back in the jar, tying the rag around the top and taking it back to the other room. 

After she left Hux felt like awakening from a strange dream.  
What was he doing here??  
There were other things he had to take care of, spies he had to meet and bribe.  
There was no time for…whatever this was.

Straightening his posture, he turned around to leave the shop, when something caught his eye. 

A small portrait of a woman. Barely the size of his hand.  
Her face, looking worn and tired albeit her apparent youth, was lit up by the smile on her lips, her hazel eyes aglow with joy. Her dark hair was tied back by a red scarf, that looked too expensive to belong to her, judging from the rest of her clothes. 

"My father painted that one" Amelia said to  
Hux when she came back and noticed him staring, "it's always been one of my favourites". 

How could this be?  
How was there a portrait of her here? 

"He painted it when I wasn't even born, my mother used to tell me she was quite jealous of him spending so much time on another woman", she chuckled, "but she knew that he took every portait very serious, especially the free ones". 

Hux snapped out of his daze and looked at her, "You give away paintings for free? Isn't that damaging to the sales?"  
This planet was strange he had known it. 

"Well not ALL paintings, we need to make a living somehow, but it's a custom on Naboo that painters offer foreigners free paintings. It's a cultural thing mostly but obviously also an attraction." Amelia looked around the shop, at the hundreds of faces staring back at her. Hux followed her gaze. He had to admit, the work she did was stunning, even if he found it to be absolutely pointless. 

"So this…woman was a foreigner then? And your father offered to paint her and kept a copy?" Hux inquired.  
She just nodded and shrugged, "We always keep copies". She walked across the room and stopped next to him to admire the small painting.  
"I think she was pregnant at the time of this, that's why she has this huge smile on her face and this glow around her".  
Hux's stomach churned.  
His eyes were still fixed on the portrait of his mother, hung on a dusty wall in a small shop in the middle of Naboos capitol.  
Could this even be a coincidence? Was this a trap? Was Amelia gonna put a gun to his head at any second?  
He was getting nervous, a feeling which he rather resented. Clammy hands, a heavy tongue and a dry throat.  
Although observing Amelia and how she jumped around the shop, rattling on about colours and techniques and strange people whom she painted, he doubted that she could ever become violent.  
There was no danger here.  
Just the cruel humour of the universe, perhaps even the kriffing Force, reminding him of what he could hide, but never run away from. 

Hux straightened, fixing his collar. He felt like he was being watched and judged by two familiar grey eyes.  
*Be precise* *Leave no traces*  
He turned around to Amelia.

"I want to buy this painting", he demanded.  
Amelia winced at his sudden loud and commanding voice and he nearly felt sorry for her for a split second. But that moment passed. 

"I want it. I will pay you any price for it." 

Amelia seemed startled by the sudden change in his demeanour and also his interest in an old painting that depicted a young pregnant woman.  
Still, she met his questioning stare calmly. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't sell it to you. It has worth to me that goes beyond money." 

"People always say that until they hear the first numbers. How much do you want, 10.000 Credits? 15? 20?" 

Amelia was now openly gawking at him. Her mouth opening and closing, apparently not knowing what to say. She found her voice quickly though. 

"If you don't mind me asking, I bring you in here and have to try and talk you into being my model for ages, which gives me the info that you're probably not that much into art and then you want to buy a painting of a stranger for a small fortune? I mean…why?" 

Hux did think of lying. But he decided against it.  
He had a feeling she would know.

"She's not a stranger, that woman is my mother". 

Silence. 

For at least a minute. 

Amelia stated at him, then closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.  
"Are you for real? Your…mother?", she asked, obviously startled by his honesty. 

Hux just nodded and looked back at the painting.  
"I'm absolutely sure. And I also recognize that red scarf." One just like it hung in his apartment, waiting for the right moment to be worn. 

"Okay then…I mean I guess your attachment to it is way more justified than mine."  
Amelia walked up to him and reached for the painting next to him on the wall.  
She took it and proceeded to wrap it up in brown paper and foil for protection behind the counter.  
Hux stood in front of it and watched her work. He was astounded that there were no other questions asked on her behalf. 

The painting wasn't big so it didn't take her long to finish wrapping it.  
She placed it on the countertop and just as Hux reached out to take it, she spoke again: "Before I sell it to you , let's make a deal. I'll give this to you, but in exchange you come back here and let me paint a portrait of you". A grin spread slowly on her face. 

Hux really should have never entered this shop. 

He sneered at her, then rolled his eyes and sighed.  
What harm could it do? 

"Fine, I'll come by tomorrow".  
And with that he took the painting and left the shop.  
When he stepped into the streets, the sunlight blinded him and he looked down onto the packaged portrait.  
Naboo really always was full of surprises. 

He hated this planet.


	2. The Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going surprisingly well...until they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So exactly one year later I've managed to write another chapter lol.  
I don't know when the next one will be up as I kinda just write this whenever inspiration hits.  
There is so much to come my friends.  
I have a lot of plans for this.  
Until then, I hope you stay safe in your place in the world and stay healthy! And don't forget to wear your masks!  
I hope this little fic can take your mind off of things for a while.

„I thought the "Balcony" would be nicer you know? With the lighting and all...“ Amelia trailed off.  
She was moving swiftly through the crowded streets, buzzing with all kinds of people and creatures.  
This was what she loved about Naboo. The people. No day being like the last one, never knowing what might happen or who might stumble across her way.  
She threw a look back over her shoulder, a blinding smile radiating towards her grumpy companion.  
To be honest, she hadn't expected him to show up again. And now, seeing the discomfort on his face as he followed her through the sea of people, she felt a bit guilty to have forced him to do this. 

It had been a selfish request. She had seen him and...well, she just couldn't look away.  
The high cheekbones, black coat, the bright orange hair, restless eyes that were scanning the crowd as if searching for something. He had seemed so obviously out of place, like a black storm cloud on a summer day.  
Amelia couldn't help but be intrigued. She had always found people interesting, one reason why she loved her job. Getting to know strangers, their stories, to the point where maybe they wouldn't be strangers anymore. It was something she cherished.  
Amelia had been born on Naboo, lived her whole life here and she never felt the need to go somewhere else. Not when it seemed like the whole galaxy came to her doorstep.  
She couldn't recall anymore, how many portraits she had painted over the years, how many faces had looked at her for hours upon hours. But something about the man walking a couple of steps behind her felt different.  
She walked a bit slower, setting a pace where she could sneak glances at his profile. His face was tense, brows turned down, jaw tight and lips in a straight line. It seemed like a perfect poker face, but spending years staring at people made Amelia know better. 

He was nervous. Maybe even a bit scared.  
By what she couldn't fathom, he didn't look like the type of person to be afraid of crowds. But then again, she didn't know his past.  
_Actually, she didn't know him at all._  
Not wanting her costumer to feel even worse about this endeavor, she decided to take a different route to their destination. Less...touristy.  
Amelia didn't reach out to touch him, not wanting to startle him, so she quickened her pace and with a look and a flick of her wrist, beckoned him to follow her. He followed her wordlessly.  
She stepped into an alley, filled with sunlight and the smell of fresh flowers. The people here were scattered and far, most of them locals searching for specific items. It was much, much calmer.  
„I don't really mind crowds, but sometimes they can be overwhelming, don't you think?“ Amelia tried to start a conversation, while walking beside him. He scrunched his nose, „I am quite indifferent to them.“ He sounded aloof, but Amelia could see how his body relaxed, if only just a fraction. The way his shoulders dropped and he unclenched his jaw, letting out a long sigh.  
Men, Amelia thought to herself and rolled her eyes. Their pride would be the death of them.  
If he noticed her reaction, he didn't show it.  
„So is this your first time on Naboo?“ she tried again.  
„No.“  
Silence followed.  
Amelia motioned for him to continue.  
A loud sigh.  
„I've been here once before...it left a lasting impression.“  
He sounded like he just stepped into something filthy. 

The conversation came to a halt again. Amelia sighed, _kriffing hell this is agonizing._ She had never met someone who was so unwilling to talk. Meeting lots of people meant getting to know a few shy ones here and there, but she had always prided herself on being able to make them feel comfortable enough to share at least a tiny bit.This guy made a simple conversation feel like pulling out teeth. 

Silence continued until they were reaching the end of the alleyway. Soon enough the narrow walls gave way to an open promenade. Beyond, a massive river was flowing softly through the city, quiet ripples could be heard as it splashed against the golden stone walls.  
Amelia couldn't stop a smile forming on her face at the sight. Kids were running around, occasionally leaning over the balustrade and letting little paper boats slip into the stream. An older woman called out to the children, reprimanding them to be careful not to fall.  
„My brother and I used to do the same thing when we were young,“ Amelia recalled softly, looking at the playing children.  
„Seems like a foolish way to waste time and resources,“ it sounded from her right.  
Amelia's head snapped towards him, shocked more because of the coldness in his voice than the insult itself. What was suddenly going on? Was he trying to get a rise out of her? Make her regret asking him for the painting?  
He was staring at the children, now joined by their mother, laughing and calling for the boats to move faster. Suddenly it seemed like his stare went further. Far, far away.  
Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine.  
_Who was this guy?_

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia picked up another piece of charcoal, after the last one had left this plane of existence. She had been sketching for quite some time now, the sky slowly turning orange and red.  
An occasional grunt of disapproval could be heard whenever she loudly erased something on the canvas in front of her.  
He had asked once when they entered how long she would take to finish, nodded curtly at her answer and then sat down in silence, while staring at her.  
Amelia tried not to show that his scrutinising gaze made her uncomfortable. She still wanted to do this painting.  
After the incident at the river, she had quickly led him to their destination.  
A large pavilion, directly placed at the edge of the river.  
This place was called The Balcony and it belonged to her brother Sateen. At least, he ran the place. The pavilion had multiple rooms for painters to work in, all of them with the best lighting and an incredible view of the lakes and rivers beyond the city. Long billowing curtains made out of silk hung from a tall roof and turned the rooms into a colourful extravaganza. Mosaics out of pearlescent, glimmering materials coated the walls, reflecting the light of the retreating sun.  
Amelia loved this place, it was invigorating her spirits and her creativity whenever she felt down or uninspired.  
The sight of The Balcony had every tourist whom entered it in awe.  
Amelia had hoped that it would finally break the ice between her and the mysterious stranger.  
One look at him...had revealed nothing though.  
The first couple of hours he was just sitting there, eyes staring straight into her soul. Now his gaze wandered across the room they were in, but it still held no emotion.  
At this point she would have been glad if he loudly announced his boredom or started to scream at her for taking to long, but there was just silence.  
Now and again she caught herself openly staring at him, feeling brave because of the canvas acting as a shield between them. She would reprimand herself to work quickly, but to no avail. She was admiring how he was able to keep the same rigid posture for so long now. Secretly she had hoped to witness the point of him breaking and just letting his shoulders drop.  
But other than cracking his knuckles a few times he didn't move.  
He seems like he was trained to do that. 

Amelia focused on her sketch again. More exactly on her eleventh sketch of him.  
She couldn't stop herself from picturing him in different scenarios. Different emotions playing across his features. She even dared to draw him with a smile on his face.  
It hadn't looked as misplaced as she would have thought it would.  
The thought made her sad.  
She also questioned the fact that she never asked for his name. He hadn't made an effort to tell her and at some point she had found it silly to ask, so now she was just left to wonder.  
Amelia wasn't stupid. She knew at least some things about her model, things that he simply couldn't hide even if he tried. For instance, he had to be in the military in some way. His tone, his posture, the few sentences he had spoken told her that. The cold stare as well. He must have a high rank too, judging by how many credits he was ready to spend on the painting of his mother. On that note. That painting was also a puzzle to be solved. He obviously had been shocked to find it in her shop and Amelia understood. It must have been a bizarre situation. His reaction had also told her that his mother most likely passed away. It was only in that moment where he looked at her painted image, that Amelia could spot a flicker of emotions _(sadness? regret? mourning?)_ in his eyes.  
The last thing she knew was that for some reason, he hated this planet. And it had something to do with his first visit here. There was plenty of room for speculation and Amelia could have just asked him about it, but she didn't want to be rude. Even though she would have wished for him to be more talkative, she understood that there were boundaries and that not everyone had memories that were fun to recall. His secrets were his to keep. 

She was staring at her sketch again, trying to figure out whether she was ready to continue with colouring it, when suddenly a voice broke the silence.  
„It's so quiet now...“ the stranger mumbled.  
Amelia's head snapped upwards at the sound of his voice. He was staring out of the window, across the river, into the distant scenery of the lakes and mountains.  
There was a flicker in his eyes again, his posture and face, for the first time, relaxed. He seemed deep in thought.  
That's when inspiration struck.  
Without saying a word Amelia began a new sketch, he didn't even seem to notice. Her fingers moved swiftly suddenly, light strokes coming to her easily.  
Amelia worked until the sun was gone, mixing colours and painting, even bringing out a tiny package of the orange pigment that she had wanted to use so bad.  
She painted with renewed vigor, while her model just sat in silence, watching the world outside slip into slumber. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

„I'm done!“ 

Hux snapped out of his reverie at the loud exclamation.  
The strange girl was running around the room, gathering her tools, sorting them and putting them in their respective places.  
She stopped in her motions, a couple of brushes in hand and looked at him, „It's finished! Sorry it took so long, but it really came out great.“  
_Oh_, the painting.  
He should have never agreed to this.  
Slowly he stood and made his way across the small room.  
The sky outside had turned a deep shade of dark blue, millions of stars glittering in the distance.  
The girl had vanished out the door with a glass full of brushes in her hands.  
Hux was skeptical.  
He didn't really know what to expect other than his own pale face staring back at him.  
His hand turned around the easel to finally take a look.  
Hux heart stopped for a moment. 

It looked like him, yes. But also not.  
He had to admit, the girl knew her craft. It was a perfect copy of him.  
The portrait showed him, waist up, staring at something beyond the frame of the painting. The light coming from the left side of the image hinted at an open window. One half of his face was cast in silver light, the other hidden away by shadows. His stature was open, shoulders relaxed, chest facing the front, hands clasped together in his lap. The blackness of his coat was threatening to swallow him up any moment, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin and his flaming orange hair.  
Even he could tell that she must have used the pigment that she had shown him. He didn't know what it was, only recalled it had a strange name. It swirled on the canvas next to the silver light of the moon, illuminating it, while the black colour seemed to deepen into an endless abyss.  
It looked like him, yet he didn't recognize himself.  
Not with the storm of emotions that was brewing in his painted eyes and the gentle frown he wore on his face.  
This was some alternate version of himself.  
He didn't know what to feel, what to think.  
Except for one thing.  
No one could ever see this.  
See him like this.  
_Weak. Pathetic. Emotional._  
Rage welled up inside him.  
She would hang this up in her little shop, he was sure. Displaying his face to every soul that entered it.  
No, he couldn't let that happen.  
He had a reputation to keep up. 

„You don't like it, do you?“  
Hux hurled around at the sudden noise and found the girl standing behind him, looking at the painting across his shoulder. She was standing close, too close.  
_She could have tried to kill you, idiot._  
He stared back at her. Arms crossed over her chest, a worried frown on her face.  
_End this nonsense, now!_  
Slowly one of his hands slipped beneath his coat, reaching for the blaster he always carried with him. Thoughts were racing through his head, years of training telling him to end this matter swiftly.  
But when his hand came into contact with the cold metal of his weapon, Hux hesitated. 

The girl meanwhile seemed to notice the movement of his hand and shot him a confused gaze. Hux witnessed the moment when realisation hit her, eyes widening, her body suddenly frozen to the spot.  
„Please...I'm sorry if I offended you...“ she tried to appease softly, a slight tremor in her voice.  
_She's afraid of you._  
Hux liked that feeling.  
_USE IT._  
He took the painting, which was already dry. She must've done something to quicken the process.  
His other hand was still on his blaster, pulling it out from under his coat now. Pointing it at her he motioned for her to sit on the stool he had sat on just a few minutes ago.  
The girl's steps were uneven as she crossed the room and she nearly slipped off the stool when she sat down. Her hands were clenched together, knuckles turning white with the pressure.  
Hux checked his path for any obstacles before slowly backing towards the door, the distance between them increasing.  
A sudden breeze made the curtains billow and their eyes met through the wispy cloth.  
For a moment everything stood still, as if time was frozen.  
The only sound was his blood rushing in his ears. The painting weighing heavy in his hand.  
_Not the only thing._

„Please...“ she whispered.  
Her voice trembled, but there were no tears. 

_Leave. No. Traces._

_Kill her._

_KILL HER._

And then Hux did something he hadn't done in a long time. 

He ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a review if you'd like!  
Until next time.


End file.
